


you work like a medicine for me

by caramelmins



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Drunkenness, Fluff, M/M, Sleepy Boys, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, i love jeonghan, what a surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelmins/pseuds/caramelmins
Summary: Seungcheol needs something before he sleeps. Unfortunately, he is too drunk to know what it is.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	you work like a medicine for me

**Author's Note:**

> jeongcheol is my otp, my number one pairing, and it feels illegal that i don't have them in my works !! also, this was inspired by a dream i had of jeonghan actually hehe, but the latest ttt also helped a lot. enjoy <3

The guest house is eerily quiet now.

Despite the clamouring it had just witnessed merely half an hour ago, the place had grown desolate and empty. There are people scattered all over the TV room, and they could be mistaken for dead bodies if Seungcheol hadn’t recognised Junhui’s breathing pattern, Seokmin’s hair peeking from his curled position, and Soonyoung’s sleepy voice.

(It’s only some incomprehensible mumbling, but he could figure out some words, and who else on this precious planet earth would be dreaming of taming wild tigers and becoming one with them?)

Seungcheol groans—that throat of his feels scorched from all the alcohol. He rises from the single-seater he sits on and with stumbling feet, he carries himself to the kitchen, careful not to kick any cans of beer on the floor. It is not only cans he has to be wary of though, since he has to try not to step on Junhui, who has passed out beneath the sofa that Seokmin is on. Seungcheol frowns at the state of him: sprawled messily, with nothing separating him from the tiles aside from the sweatshirt he is wearing. Seungcheol grunts, deeply contemplating if he should put him somewhere else later.

The effort to think had birthed a new headache in his head. He clicks his tongue.

For now, water.

At the kitchen, Seungcheol takes the route for the water dispenser. He saunters, while his fingers lightly tap along the edge of the dining table, and he only brings them up when they almost collide with Jihoon’s head. The guy is asleep on the kitchen table, silver hair glinting under the kitchen lights. A huff of amusement, then Seungcheol brushes down the younger’s hair. Jihoon squirms a little at the touch.

While taking one of the cups from the cupboard, Seungcheol takes a moment to glance at the sink. The look of it would make even a very sober head _dizzy_. He kind of feels _bad_ for adding more dirty dishes to the monstrous pile, but his throat is screaming. He really needs a refreshment to shut it up, and that demand is most apparent when he gulped down the entire glass of water in no time. Strangely, though, when he had downed all the water, throat quenched of all thirst, a part of him still _yearns_ for something. And desperately at that.

He forgoes the thought and instead goes to find some extra blankets from one of the first-floor bedrooms. Inside, he takes a careful look at the faces. On one edge is Mingyu, eyebrows scrunched in irritation as he shrugs off Seungkwan who continuously tries to hug him. It is actually fascinating to see the two of them showing no different than their usual selves: squabbling, even when asleep. Still, even more impressive is how Chan chases Seungkwan in the same manner, being just as demanding with his affection. Also as ignored.

The cuddle train puts a broad smile in Seungcheol’s face, one that he hadn’t even realised was there.

He goes to fix the blanket used by the three, covering all exposed skins and making sure they look warm enough before he strides towards the closet. Once he opens it, he sees where the extra bed covers are and momentarily thanks the highest being that he has the height to reach for them. He is no Mingyu, but it’s convenient enough for things like this.

After gathering them all into his arms, he steps back into the TV room.

Picking Junhui up turns out to be quite troublesome. He finds himself muttering, “ _this guy is heavier than he looks_ ,” because he really wasn’t expecting this weight. Still, he tries his best to wrap the younger with one of the blankets, making sure his body won’t be directly touching the floor. Once he is done, he ruffles Junhui’s hair, then makes a going for the kitchen again.

Back in the kitchen, Seungcheol finds it cute that Jihoon doesn’t squirm anymore when he puts the blanket on his back.

A moment passed of him just staring at his best friend, not unlike how his father would watch over him when he thought Seungcheol didn’t notice. Jihoon looks way too comfortable with resting his cheek on the hard surface of the table, and Seungcheol is almost worried for it. But nights like these don’t need propriety and well-conducted behaviours. They rented the guest house to get drunk and maybe pass out. Well now that they’re successfully drunk _and_ definitely and not-so-elegantly passed out, the job here is done.

Seungcheol lets out a sigh, then turns on his heels to bask in the silence.

He has only taken two steps forward when he stops on his track. He notices the strange layer of chill on his skin, as if the outermost part has been peeled to reveal some new, baby-skin ones. He rubs his hands over his sides. Some of the Autumn air had managed to permeate into the lodging, and he only, stupidly realise now that his one, thin layer of sweater isn’t trying its best to fight it. Because, despite the attempt to warm himself some more, he still feels annoyingly cold.

Oh well, he just needs to snuggle up into the blanket later.

 _Later_.

There is something else he needs to do, he is sure. He still has no idea _what_ it is that he needs, though. He brings his hand up, runs it over his hair, brushing the strands. Nothing. So, he wrings his neck, stretches his arms, massages the nape of his neck, rubs the bleariness out of his eyes—nothing.

Okay, maybe he just needs to sleep, after all.

Finally, he decides to come up to the second floor. Trying to make the least sound as possible, he checks the first bedroom nearest to the stairs—there is Vernon, sleeping on the same bed as Myungho. He turns off the light before he goes back out, another smile spreading his lips. On the second bedroom, there is Wonwoo, curling up in the bed too big for just himself. One more smile, as Seungcheol settles on taking this room tonight.

Instead of climbing onto the bed though, he exits the room and closes it again. There is something he _has_ to do. Something before he should go to sleep. What is it? His brain usually works better even after this much _soju_. He had drunk three bottles tonight, but he had more before. He had more, and he had survived them all.

Maybe he will find out if he keeps on moving.

He goes to open the bedroom next to it and sees Joshua taking the single bed. He looks ready to sleep if not for the phone on his hand. He seems focused, scrolling through whatever is in the screen like it’ll bring him good dreams if he stares at them before sleep. Just as any one of their millennial friends would do when they are not passing out from alcohol.

“Hey,” Joshua says, eyes only glancing from his phone to Seungcheol, then back to his phone. “Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol leans on the door for his head feels heavy all of a sudden. “Why aren’t _you_?”

At last, Joshua looks up at Seungcheol. A tiny smile decorates his face as he answers, “I’m gonna sleep in a moment.”

“Okay.” Seungcheol makes an infinitesimal jerk of head. “Do you want me to turn off the lights?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it later.”

Seungcheol hums and smiles at his best friend. “Sleep well.”

“You too,” Joshua’s voice is soft before Seungcheol turns around to leave.

He walks out of the room. In his chest is this relief that everyone is safe, and most are sleeping well. But this mysterious desire still stirs inside him, begging to be noticed. Well, he noticed it _already_ , he just wishes his body will pronounce the words more clearly, so he doesn’t have to play a guessing game anymore. Especially with the fuzziness in his brain. All he knows that it feels like something mandatory for him to be able to sleep just as well as his friends—for him to have a good night sleep.

The moment he stops trying to carry himself upright, his shoulder sags pitifully. He is tired, and he needs his well-deserved rest.

Suddenly, he sees the bathroom door further away from the bedroom slowly opens. A creak, some silence, and then Jeonghan emerges from it. He notices Seungcheol, standing on the poorly-lit hall, and the blond-haired man brightens up, more than the way his hair is bright against the dimmed lighting.

“Seungcheol, why aren’t you—?”

It does not take too much time for Seungcheol to arrive onto Jeonghan’s arms. They were only a couple steps away from each other in the first place, and Seungcheol takes wide steps for some reason. The hug is full yet easy. And most importantly, it feels _right_ , and Seungcheol melts into Jeonghan like a dropped ice cream on a Summer asphalt.

He closes his eyes in what feels very akin to bliss. Maybe it is.

“What is it, hm?” Jeonghan asks, a gentle voice next to Seungcheol’s head. Seungcheol gives him a sigh in lieu of an answer, a contented one now more than frustrated. He knew the question was kind of rhetorical anyway.

Despite the question, Jeonghan’s reciprocating hug feels unquestioning more than anything. This feels nice, how Jeonghan always gives back whatever affection coming at him.

Then, as if it’s possible, Seungcheol gathers more of Jeonghan—all of him—into himself. His head buried deep into the crook of the younger’s neck, and he breathes in the lingering sweat on his shoulder. It’s somehow sweet, and Jeonghan fits so well in his arms.

There is a breathy noise now, and Seungcheol is sure the other is stifling a laugh, but he doesn’t much care. He couldn’t too, since Jeonghan brings a hand up to Seungcheol’s nape, right along the back of his hair, and strokes the spot until it’s warm.

So warm, Seungcheol almost purrs. He might as well fall asleep right this second.

“Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” Jeonghan tries again.

Seungcheol lazily hums back, but then he decides to give a better answer: “A second. Please.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan immediately complies. He stands still, letting Seungcheol taking him in all the ways possible—the arms around his torso, the breath on his collarbone, the fingers fiddling on the fabric on his sides, and the messy hair tickling on his ear. He keeps still, even after it has passed the one second Seungcheol requested.

And the second turns into two, into three, until it has been five minutes of Seungcheol clinging onto Jeonghan’s very willing figure before he finally detaches himself. Then another minute must have passed, of him just standing there, staring at Jeonghan and the beautiful blond hair framing his face. He is staring long enough that a frown grows across his lips—he’s not even sure why he’s frowning right now, it just feels right as Jeonghan is staring back at him.

“Why?” Jeonghan chuckles softly, then he takes Seungcheol’s hand into his own. He brushes a thumb over the knuckles before asking, “tired?”

The pout on Seungcheol’s face persists, bottom lip jutted out and eyes as big as he could possibly make them. He nods.

“Let’s just sleep, hm?”

The hum that Jeonghan just made breaks Seungcheol’s efforts to keep his pout. A small smile grows on his lips. Jeonghan looks so cute.

“Come on.” He drags Seungcheol’s unwilling body across the hall and into the bedroom Wonwoo occupies. He pats his butt twice as if Seungcheol was a kid that needs to be ushered to bed. The older readily climbs on it, always so malleable under Jeonghan’s touch. A blanket is laid over him and he let himself be warmed up, even though he could do it himself, for sure. He didn’t feel like stopping the other from doing it.

The filtered light from above the door shines upon Jeonghan’s face, a persisting smile and eyes that look so familiar now after years of being around each other. Next to him, he can hear Wonwoo twists and then turns over, so Jeonghan puts one finger over his own lips and goes, “Sshhh.”

It is exactly that, along with the cheeky smile that urges Seungcheol to grab Jeonghan’s wrist. Seungcheol tugs once, and the other understandingly climbs onto the bed and lays next to him. He is on the bed’s very edge and it’s dangerous, so Seungcheol puts a hand on Jeonghan’s back to pull him closer until their faces are just inches away from each other.

Seungcheol could swear Jeonghan’s breath has paused a fragment of a moment before he breathes normally again. He is not sure why, but that fills his chest with satisfaction.

He thwarts down an approaching smirk, and instead begins saying, “All the bedrooms are full.”

It’s a lie. There are two other bedrooms downstairs, supposedly for the people currently sleeping around the house and its floor. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that.

“Oh.” His voice is barely heard. “Okay.”

Seungcheol tugs on the edge of the blanket and covers Jeonghan up to his torso. The other stays silent, and it’s too dark to know the expression he’s having now, but all of that doesn’t exactly matter now. He stretches an arm around Jeonghan’s torso, his other one bent on the elbow, clasping onto Jeonghan’s shirt. A confused noise comes out of the younger’s lips, but he asks no question, nonetheless.

“Sleep. Here.”

There is a beat, then a whisper, “Okay. I already said okay, right?” Jeonghan stretches his arms as well, then it goes around to Seungcheol’s back. “Good night, Seungcheol-ah.”

With his face buried on Jeonghan’s chest, Seungcheol hoists one of his legs up and lets it half-draped itself on Jeonghan’s body. It’s almost magic how small his big body has turned into. 

A muffled voice, “ _G’night_ ,” and then Seungcheol sleeps with a small, satisfied smile forming on his lips, next to Jeonghan’s heart.

Now _this_ is what Seungcheol needs.


End file.
